Bonnie Wee Sodor
by Butterfrogmantis
Summary: TTTE: Moving from their beloved Caledonia was no small task for Donald and Douglas, and metaphorical coupling still binds the Scots to their homeland. When Bill and Ben decide to take action, they discover than you can take the Scot from Scotland, but never Scotland from the Scot. {includes ocs}


Home is where the heart is. Or where you're manufactured and built -as was the case, so it happens, with the Scots. Donald and Douglas were numbers 9 and 10 on the Fat Controllers railway - practical, peppery, and proud brothers that were rarely apart unless a job entailed temporary separation. Today started with a double job for the twins, so they were more than happy when they set off down the tracks towards Knapford, with several trucks of spare parts between them that were bound for the Steamworks.

Victor was already bustling about sorting out a new set of wheels for James when the Scots arrived. A gleaming white tank engine approached instead, inspecting the contents of the trucks to make sure they were satisfactory. Angel had arrived on the island recently, and despite her unfortunate start to engine life, had done well for herself at the Sodor Steamworks assisting with paint jobs when Victor was too busy or when the engines wanted a second opinion on the shade of purple they were considering.

"Ah, molto buona~" She smiled. "Grazie boys, Victor will need these later"

"Nae worry lassie" Donald beamed "Where de ye want us tae put them?"

"Round the back" Angel gestured with her eyes. "And mind the wall by the turntable, it's just been repainted.

"Will do" Donald nodded, as he and his brother moved to place the trucks. They were uncoupled from the load and had begun to reverse out of the Steam works when Angel called them again.

"If you boys aren't busy, Vicky needs someone to take this valve oil up to the narrow gauge quarry. It's a one engine job really but if you're not busy you can both take the scenic route"

Donald and Douglas grinned at each other. As a matter of fact, they weren't busy just then, and they rather liked the quaint little hills of the blue mountain trail. So it was then, a half hour later, that they found themselves rolling through the Sodor countryside with several bottles of valve oil per cab. The noon sun was bright that day, and it warmed the boilers of the Scots with its cosy blanket of heat. Daffodils and snowdrops stood to attention by the sides of the tracks, swaying in the slipstream from the scot's wheels as they passed. Several little butterflies were flitting over the grass by a small stream, and at one point they stopped to watch a pair of bumble bees that accidently collided with each other after emerging from neighbouring flowers.

"Heh, now who does that remind me of?~" Douglas chuckled as the insects flew past his smoke box.

"A couple o wee 'bees' Dougie" Donald laughed "Whit de ye suppose they'll be up to today?"

"Ah reckon Timothy will tell us if we don't hear it from them first"

The two laughed as they continued down the tracks towards the quarry, rolling from flat countryside into hills where several young lambs were grazing next to their parents.

"Aye, feels a wee bit Welsh" Douglas grinned "Nae wonder the wee engines feel at home"

"Aye! Maybe we can convince Mariah tae move out the twin sheds and werk here, ey Douglas?"

"We'd all get some peace and quiet at that rate, ey Donald?"

The brothers chuckled at this joke, glad the green Ivatt engine wasn't nearby to hear them. After a few more minutes of incline, the grass started to thin into rubble and stone, and before long they'd made their way to the centre of the blue mountain quarry. Rheneas was waiting for them in the centre of the quarry, and stopped his conversation with Peter Sam to greet them.

"Good morning you two, did Victor send two engines for a one steamie job?" He laughed, watching as their firemen brought the oil from the cabs and handed it to his own and Peter Sam's.

"Ach, we thought we'd take a wee scenic route, there's nae much work fer us today"

"Then you might be just the engines we need!" Peter Sam piped up. "Someone left some trucks here but they're dock trucks, so me and Rheneas were waiting for an engine – or two – that could take them back"

"Ach, one more job will nae hurt us" Donald smiled.

"Ooh, and there's a visitor you could take with you too" Rheneas beamed, winking conspiratorially at the green engine besides him "She wants to go round the island"

"Aye, we could take her nae bother" Douglas nodded.

"I think you might even like her" Rheneas hid a small smile, as if hiding a secret "You might find you even have something in common"

The welsh engine had been right on that front. The Scots were coupled up the trucks and were patiently waiting to see who would be arriving. After a few minutes, a young woman with fiery red hair approached, darting her eyes back and forth as she took in the sight. She sucked on her teeth, swaying slightly on her heels, then grinned, showing a row of pink braces.

"Aye, whit a fine pair o' engines we have here"

Donald and Douglas cast a glance at each other, surprise on their faces. Hearing other scots on Sodor wasn't impossible, but it was always something they enjoyed hearing.  
"An' good mornin tae you lassie" Donald grinned back, which seemed to encourage her excitement.

"Well now, a fine accent for a fine pair of engines" She chuckled "But ah'm afraid ah'm nae done lookin' around the quarry just yet, so ah'll leave the docks fer later"

Donald nodded, sounded his whistle and started off. Almost as soon as his wheels made the first roll, he noticed a badge on the woman's jumper that made him break suddenly.

"Woah there Donnie!" Douglas called from behind, but Donald didn't hear him. He'd seen that badge before, they past it everyday whilst they were still on the Caledonian railway, it was the badge of the local inn, an acorn with a pine martin wrapped around it, very distinguishable.

"Ye wouldnae happen to have come from Caledonia would ye lassie?"

"Sure am laddie" She beamed, pointing directly at the badge Donald had observed "One an' onleh landlord of Pine Martin pub, yes siree. Olivia Campbell"

Douglas had quietened down by now, and he understood his brother's reason for the sudden stop. He, like Donald, was burning with a thousand questions at that moment. Donald decided to ask only one.

"Tell me, how's tae oak tree?"

"By the riverside?"

"Aye"

Olivia's face fell so quickly that the freckles on it stretched diagonally.

"Sorry laddie ... they cut it down a year or two ago"

"O-oh" Donald gulped. "Well ... t'was onleh a tree ah suppose ... let's be goin' Dougie" He sighed, starting to chuff forwards again. Douglas followed suit, also without saying a word. For a while they chuffed along in silence until the number 10 twin couldn't take the silence anymore.  
"Ah'm ... sorry about yer tree Donnie"

"Ach, ah suppose it would be old by now"

"But ye did seem to like it ..."

The other engine's lips twitched into what was almost a smile. Donald had found a small sapling between some gravel on the tracks when he'd first started working on the railway, and called the humans to come and move it. They'd taken it by the riverside and Donald had chuffed by every single day for years, watching as it grew into a magnificent oak tree.

"Ah was tae one who found the sapling" He smiled wanly. "But that lassie got me thinkin' bout home again Dougie, and ah've nae done that fer many years"

"Aye ... me neither Donnie"

The rest of the journey was as silent as the start.

Brendam docks were bustling that afternoon, and the three cranes were busy hauling loads on and off ferries. Salty and Porter, the dockside engines, were singing a chorus of Randy Dandy O' as they shunted flatbeds back and forth. A couple of seagulls were perched on top of some of the trucks, screaming loudly at the dock workers. Donald peeped his whistle as they approached with the dock trucks, and Salty chuffed forwards.

"Ahar mateys! We'd been wondering when these would come back to us"

"Special delivery from tae quarry" Douglas called "Glad tae help"

The Scots were uncoupled from their delivery and had begun to reverse when something biffed into the back of Douglas' buffers with a small 'oof' noise.

"We weren't expecting any other engines in the way" Came a cross voice with a distinctive Brummie accent from behind the number 10 engine.

"Tae be fair, neither were we" Douglas chuckled, his giggles increasing as the two small engines behind him suddenly began apologising. There was the sound of 8 wheels reversing, and soon two familiar ochre engines had appeared on the tracks adjacent to the Scots, their cheeks rosy. Donald and Douglas smiled at Bill and Ben, glad to see the bees.

"Hello ye wee scunners~" Donald teased affectionately "Whit's the occasion?"

"Coal for the clay pits" Bill boasted.

"And a chance to escape Timothy for a bit" Ben added. He noticed something off on their friend's faces. "What's wrong with you two?"

The Scots exchanged a quick glance. The bees were trustworthy, at least to them. Mischievous perhaps, but when it really mattered they pulled through. Without bragging, the Scots also knew there was another reason the bees were more trustworthy to them than other potential engines like Gordon. The bees felt a different way about the Scots, at least specifically depending on which twin. Most engines were a fun removing nuisance to them in their eyes - but they held a certain level of respect for Donald and Douglas. Perhaps initially because of their imposing twinship that rivalled the bees, but later had formed into a sort of other admiration, or as far as engines could go; infatuation. Particularly on Bill's part. For this reason, the Scots shared the tale of Olivia at the quarry, and how she'd reminded them of Caledonia, and brought a fresh wave of nostalgia their way.

"Ah didnae think it'd still hurt so much after all this time" Donald sighed "Ah mean Sodor is home tae us now but ..."

Bill's face fell sympathetically. He knew Donald missed his homeland, but even he had no idea the profound affect it had had. Even Ben hadn't made a single cutting remark because he understood the pain Douglas was also feeling.

"But life goes oan I guess" The number 9 engine laughed nervously "Nae use cryin' o'er spilt oil. Onwards Dougie, ah think tae fat controller wanted to see us fer our next job"

Douglas grimaced, but followed suit, leaving the china clay twins and a stale atmosphere behind them.

"What do we do now Bill?" Ben gulped.

"I ... don't know Ben" The other frowned "But we have to do something! We can't leave them feeling this way"

"Yeah, but what can we DO? We can't send them back to Scotland"

"Yeah I know that" Bill's brows creased with such ferocity that his forehead looked like a wifi signal. "But we still have to do something"

They pondered over the possibilities for a while, rejecting idea after idea. Obviously a great escape wasn't in order; they'd get into far too much trouble for that. Not to mention they didn't exactly know where they were going even if they got to the mainland – that is if they weren't caught beforehand. After a further few ideas were tossed out, Ben had an idea that was slightly better.

"Say Bill, didn't they mention someone up at the quarry?"

"Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?"

The number 2 tank engine smiled enigmatically.

"Follow me"

*****

"If ye hadnae had yer heed in the clouds ye'd ne're have bumped it ya dafty"

"Awrgh"

Donald was currently being shunted to the Steamworks by his brother. They'd been passing along down a mainline, and the number 9 engine was still thinking about his old tree when he stopped paying attention to the tracks and, rather ironically, skidded over a fallen branch from a nearby oak. There wasn't too much damage, but the front of his buffers had been badly scratched from the twigs, so Douglas decided to take him to have them repainted.

Angel met them for the second time, greeting them with a hearty 'ciao' and then tutting at the metallic scratching on the first twin.

"Ah, oh caro! But I'm afraid we do not have any more red paint at the moment"

"Tell me about it" James huffed, sitting nearby with his familiar pinkish undercoat. "It's just not good enough"

Angel ignored him.

"We used up the last bit shortly before you arrived" Her eyes gestured to one of the human workers who was on the telephone "But they'll be some more coming in soon, so I'll send word in a few hours"

"Right" Donald sighed "Just mah luck"

"Ah, nae bother Angel, we can still be really useful engines" Douglas exclaimed "We'll just come back"

"Where did all the paint go anyway?" Donald asked, curious. But the Italian engine merely smiled mysteriously, giving the twins the impression something secret was going on behind their back buffers.

It was later that the twins found themselves sitting in the twin engine sheds, having no other jobs to do that day. The others were out doing their shifts, so the Scots had a bit of peace and quiet to chat. Both of them were still thinking fondly of their homeland, so they decided it was better to just get everything out in the open and discuss fond memories of the highlands and the little mama cattle with their baby coos they'd seen every spring and watched grow into parents themselves. There was a little pond on one of the mountains, and chuffing along it by night would fill the air with the sounds of crickets and frogs. In the spring, wild heather would blossom on either side of the tracks and prompt engines and drivers alike to burst into the spontaneous chorus of 'Wild Mountain Thyme'.

"Aye, those were the days Donnie" Douglas sighed, closing his eyes. A starling twittered somewhere in the trees nearby.

"Aye Dougie ... they were" Donald looked up at the sky. It was cerulean and apart from the occasional cumulus cloud, completely clear. A trail of white from a jet engine streaked northwards across the sky, fading into the clear blue yonder. It almost looked an arrow, pointing teasingly to the Scot's country. But Sodor was their home now, and even without the thrill of seeing wild thistles everywhere, it had welcomed them with open arms. Scotland could be cold and wet most of the year round, yet southern Sodor offered beautiful sunny days in the summer seasons. And of course, the company was much different. In some senses, Sodor had worse company. The Scots had a few enemies without being mortal foes, but they also had much closer friends. Not to mention of course, the bees.

TOOT

The sound of a whistle made both brothers look up. A familiar red engine was puffing by the tracks, looking somewhat impatient.

"There you are" James huffed "Been looking all over for you. Anyway, Angel's paint came in so you can go now" He peeped his whistle and started back down the tracks, muttering about how delays in red paint simply weren't acceptable for a splendid engine like himself.

"Well, that gives us something to do eh?" Douglas smiled "I'll come with ye"

"Thank ye" Donald looked down at his scratched buffers. He could see his face reflected in the silver cuts that sparkled through the red. He grinned a little, and all of the little faces grinned back.

As it so happens, their shed wasn't too far from the Steamworks and with a nice gentle breeze dancing across their boilers; the Scots took a leisurely chuff along the tracks, pausing only to let a cat run across the junction. As they approached the bend before the Steamworks, Donald thought he heard something in the wind.

"De ye hear that Dougie?"

"Hear whit Donnie?"

"Sounds ... familiar"

"..."

"..."

"Oh ye! I hear it now! Sounds like ... Ye Banks and Braes?"

"Oan ... bagpipes?"

Inquisitive, they chuffed further forwards. The distinct sounds of their homeland instrument were even clearer now. They glanced back at each other. At the front of the Steamworks, a familiar woman stood with a huge grin on her freckled face.

"There ye are!"

"Olivia?" The twins said in unison, and began to talk over each other before she held up a hand for silence.

"I had a couple of wee laddies come to me earlier practically begging me to help, an' how could ah say no tae such a heartfelt plea?" She rapped her knuckles on the Steamworks door "Sorry we had to hide the red paint from you, but ye wouldnae have come back otherwise"

The brothers exchanged a inquiring glance, but their unspoken questions were soon answered. The Steamworks doors lifted and two familiar engines rolled forwards with huge grins plastered on their faces ... and a tartan pattern painted on each set of buffers. Above their boilers they had a tam o' shanter each, and one half of their face had been facepainted blue. Bill and Ben grinned.

"Top of the morning to you" Ben smirked, in a truly awful impression.

"That's Irish you goit" Bill rolled his eyes. "Anyway, surprise!" His beam stretched widely across his face, a faint blush on either cheek.

"Whit's all this for laddies?" Donald asked, peering behind them into the Steamworks.

"You'' have to come in to see that my friends" Victor, the Cuban engine, chuckled as he made his way out of the front of the Steamworks. His assistant, Kevin, followed behind, whizzing excitedly around the larger engines.

"Bill and Ben worked really hard on it!"

"Aye? Then lets see!" Douglas shunted his brother's buffers slightly in encouragement as the bees reversed to allow the Scots to enter. They stopped inside the room, looking around in awe. Posted on all of the walls were large printed pictures of mountains and glens. The bagpipe music had been coming from the overhead speakers, and there was a small sapling in a pot in the centre. Bill chuffed next to it and coughed.

"Donnie? Olivia said there used to be an oak tree where you came from ... well I thought perhaps if you couldn't see Scotland or your tree, you could plant one here on Sodor" Bill blushed slightly as his driver put the pot on Donald's buffers. The number 9 engine teared up slightly, looking over at the bee. If engines had arms he'd have been hugging him so tightly in that moment.

"We can put it by Dilly's pond" Bill suggested, you like driving past both"

"Ah think she'll like that" Donald smiled; a tear or two rolling down his cheeks. "Did ye really do all this fer us?"

"We couldn't bring you two to Scotland so we figured we might as well bring Scotland to you two!" Ben explained proudly "The tartan buffers were my idea"

"Oh yes, and we have some more red paint for your buffers my friend" Victor laughed as he and the rest of the Steamworks crew made their way back in. "Let us fix those and then you can plant your tree"

The rest of them spent a delightful few hours whilst Donald's paintwork dried talking about Caledonia. Donald recounted the time he'd accidently shunted some trucks too fast and they'd tumbled into a loch, and Douglas reminisced the time he thought he'd seen the loch ness monster only to be informed they weren't even near loch ness, which made everyone laugh. Olivia filled them in on current events at the railway, and any funny stories that came to mind. At long last, the sun began to set, so the gang formed a line as Donald, with his freshly painted buffers, lead his brother and the bees (with their tartan buffers) along to Dilly's pond. Olivia hopped down from his cab and planted the small oak sapling into the soil besides the lake. All the engines hooted their whistles in celebration.

"Ye know Donnie, ah think in some ways Sodor might just be more home than ever"

"Ah agree Dougie" Donald tittered, winking at Bill besides him, who's grey face instantly turned scarlet. "But ye know what they say, when in Sodor-"

"Do as the Scots do!" Douglas laughed, affectionately buffering up to Ben (in a manner much the same playful way human residents of Sodor would elbow each other) Ben muttered something indignantly, but smiled all the same and remarked how much the tartan suited him.

"Ach, anything would suit ye wee bees. Even bright pink!"

Bill glowed and Ben scowled. The Scots simply laughed, rolling backwards and forwards a little so that steam blew up slightly around them. For a few minutes, all seemed at peace with the world. High above their funnels, the sun was setting below the green hills of Sodor, and Donald and Douglas knew it would also be setting over the Caledonian mountains. Perhaps home wasn't so far away after all.


End file.
